


Simple Reflections

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Fluff, No Slash, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-10-31
Updated: 2003-10-31
Packaged: 2018-12-27 02:08:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12071475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Brian thinks about what has changed post-sunshine.





	Simple Reflections

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

So I’m sat cross legged on my bed, thinking hard. What is it about _him_ that is any different to any other trick that I’ve had? Pursing my lips I look down at the dark blue cover, running my hand briefly over the crisp fabric as if to check it’s really there. 

Glancing round the gloomy loft through the open partition blinds I take silent note of the things that have changed. I see the easel over in the corner, standing on a ratty piece of cotton that I think used to be a bed sheet, with various items of artistic splendour strewn about it. The actual painting even from here I can see is incredible, the lines soft and delicate yet immediately striking. The counter top isn’t as miraculously clean as I usually keep it because earlier today he came up with the ‘fabulous’ idea of making cookies and has neglected to clean away the mixture of crumbs and chocolate chips, and the light dustings of flour that have settled haphazardly like snow on anything solid – like the floor, for instance. My CD collection seems to have doubled overnight, but now the only music I seem to hear is modern rubbish from shitty bands that call themselves artists. Back in my day, the music was real. I remember I said that to him once, claiming that his idea of music was my idea of noise and that he should listen to a real band, like queen. His delighted laugh told me I’d apparently said something highly amusing, and for so long he wouldn’t shut up that I ended up spanking him. I think the little fucker enjoyed it more than I did though, so then I was forced to tie him to the bed and punish him even more. 

There are many things about him that puzzle me. Like the cheesy way that one smile can brighten my day, or the times late at night when he thinks I’m asleep and snuggles surreptitiously in my conveniently open arms. The way, just with one coy look in the morning before he rushes off to be a scruffy art student, he can have me thinking about him all day long, relentlessly.   
I twist in my seat briefly to glance at the time, wondering when he’ll be home. He only went to the supermarket to get some food, why is it taking him so long? 

That’s another thing that’s changed – my diet. I have actually gained about four pounds since his move in, despite all the ‘exercise’ that I do. His idea of a meal is pizza or take-away, and the hours of enjoyment he seems to get out of ice cream has really taken it’s toll on my waistline. I glance down with a frown and rub my hand across my bare abdomen, attempting to pinch any flab. I remember when I stood on the scales in the bathroom and realised that I’d gained weight. He told me later that I actually started hyperventilating, standing on the scales and pulling hysterically at my hair, gasping between laboured breaths that soon I’d be so disgustingly obese that even Ted would get more action than me. He soon snapped me out of it by yanking me into the bedroom (when did he get so strong?), pushing me down on the bed and going down on me, but still, four pounds I tell you!

Shivering slightly from the mysterious breeze that seems to be floating across the loft I pull myself up, moving to the wardrobe. I open it and realise that I can’t decide which side is mine and which side is his because the clothes are all jumbled together. Before that little cock came along my wardrobe consisted of overpriced Italian suits, but now it looks more like a jumble sale hit it. I peer inside, raking through the hangers and see a grey hoodie emblazoned with the French Connection FCUK slogan. It’s not mine, but hey, it looks toasty. I grab it and pull it over my head, relishing the warmth it brings. I wonder why I’ve never worn one of these before; it’s quite comfortable, even if it is a little slobby. A familiar smell assaults my nostrils and I look around quickly; but there’s no one here except me. Glancing around in confusion I bring my hand up to pull at my hair, and realise that the Justinesque smell is coming from the jumper. 

“How extraordinary,” I mutter to myself, bringing the sleeve of the garment closer to my nose and inhaling deeply. 

The metallic squeal of the loft door opening snaps me back into reality and I have to restrain myself from running down the bedroom stairs into his arms. Instead I wander nonchalantly down, as if only just coming to the conclusion that he even left in the first place. In front of me I see my angel laden down with carrier bags, grinning broadly. What’s he so fucking happy about I wonder briefly, before he starts unpacking the shopping and launches into an explanation. 

“I just got asked on a date!” he trills, and my eyes narrow dangerously. “Oh don’t worry,” he continues, noticing this. “there is no competition.” He states with an accentuating sweep of his hand.

“And why’s that, sonny boy,” I say deadpan, watching him remove the fat and cholesterol filled snacks from one of the bags, expecting him to say it’s because I’m like, the hottest guy ever and no one could ever replace me.

“Er, they kinda had _breasts_ ,” he says, suppressing a shudder. “And I’m not talking man-boobs.” 

“You got asked out by a wom-” I start, laughing, before he cuts me off by holding up his free hand lolly-pop lady style with a pained grimace. A bunch of bananas hang from the other – probably the only healthy, non manufactured thing he bought. 

“It was like an episode of the Twighlight Zone, I swear.” He says as he finishes putting away the food and stuffs the empty bags into the bin. “Sadly though, I had to turn her down.” He says, walking towards me with his hips swaying seductively. 

“Yeah,” I say, eyeing him up.

“mmm hmm,” he replies, wrapping an arm around my torso and pulling me in close. I lean into kiss him and our lips just touch as he pulls back quickly. 

“What,” I say, slightly panicked. “You haven’t turned breeder on me have you?” 

“Oh yeah, I’m cured!” he laughs as he pretends to move to run away. I grab his arm to prevent this and he says, “no I haven’t, I’m still queer,” smiling at the gleam in my eyes, “but…is that my sweater?” I glance down at the hoodie that I have decided to requisition. 

“What, I was cold,” I say plaintively. 

“mmm, ok,” he mutters, grinning at me. 

“Shut up, twat,” I say, swatting him across the stomach.

“You shut up, idiot brains,” he replies, hitting me softly back.

“Idiot brains?” I say arching an eyebrow. “What are you, five?” he pouts at me and my next quip shoots out of my head. His raspberry lips look so hot puckered like that…I can’t resist grabbing him fiercely and pressing my lips against his. He quickly reciprocates, pushing his tongue into my mouth and delving into the darkest areas of my soul at the same time. For a while we remain like this, just kissing and kissing as if we have all the time in the world. I can feel through our extreme proximity his heart beating faster, and even if I couldn’t, his now frenzied kissing would have given up the game anyway. He pushes his groin against mine and I feel his erection straining in his pants. He reaches for my slacks and pushes them down, but slaps my hands away as I move to take off the hoodie. 

“Leave it on,” he growls, kissing me again.  
Spinning me round he pushes my bare buttocks up against the counter-top (which still has flour on it, incidentally,) and drops to his knees, looking up all doe-eyed. This just makes me harder and I grab his head, pushing it towards my dick. He flashes me an ‘I have so got you wrapped around my little finger look’, and brings his warm lips to the head of my member. I groan at the contact, wishing he’d stop teasing me and just suck my cock already. My wish is granted after a few minutes as he takes all of my length in his mouth, and then swallows hard as the tip of my cock bumps the back of his throat. I moan loudly at the tight massaging, and my hands tighten in the mass of gold atop his head. He brings his head up again, licking my dick all over, especially the sensitive underside. He hits the spot that he knows drives me crazy and just laps at it a few times, making my back arch against the counter and my eyes squeeze shut. 

“Jus-” I start, but can’t finish because I begin to pant as he takes me in again and he stiffens, his head bobbing at my groin mercilessly. He can tell I’m close because a spare hand moves furtively between my ass cheeks and an index finger gently circles the little orifice, before creeping inside. His head is still bouncing at my groin, his tongue expertly pleasuring me in all the right places, and his finger slowly begins to thrust. Even without lube it feels fucking incredible and vaguely I feel my toes curl and my head loll back as he brings me to the edge. With one more thrust and another hard swallow I come with a cry, shooting my load down his throat. He lets me ride it out before pulling away, and he has to remind me to remove my white-knuckled hands from where my fingers have tangled in his hair. 

“Shit, Justin,” I say as I try to regulate my breathing. “what was that for?” 

“’Cus you’re so hot,” he says with a playful grin. “And being asked out by that woman made me realise exactly how I felt about you”, he finishes. I avoid his eyes, knowing that what I’ll see there will make me say something I vowed I would never say, even though I feel it more than ever. 

“Oh, I just thought it was because you’re a little cock sucker,” I say, jabbing my finger into his side. 

“Well that too,” he laughs, dodging away from me and skipping up to the bedroom. I watch him as he peels off his clothes and stands with his arms open to me.

With a delirious happiness welling inside me I move to join him, thinking that since he came along, things have most definitely changed for the better.


End file.
